


potions with donghyuck, the usual

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Drabble, Fluff, Gay Panic, M/M, One Shot, Rated teen for language, gryffindor!mark, i guess i gave up, it's just mark realizing he is a Big Gay for hyuck so, slytherin!hyuck, uhhh i think i was gonna do a 5 + 1 thing with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 23:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14531970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: typical day at potions except things get a little weird and scary





	potions with donghyuck, the usual

**Author's Note:**

> i hope no one minds that my first post here is . a shitty blurb but n e ways ! i hope you enjoy reading the sum of exams + soft hours + markhyuck i made (i hope it's as funny as it sounds in my head)

It was Tuesday morning, which meant he had Potions with Donghyuck. Potions with Donghyuck also meant at least 3 explosions of any size at their desks and detention for the two of them (like how it was every week). It was never fair, sure, but he quite enjoyed them with the younger despite their tolls on Gryffindor’s points.

That Tuesday morning, however, the Slytherin seemed more irritable and provoked, which didn't really make sense. Mark knew he had his favorite, since he met him, pair of socks on (he could see the splattered pink and yellow polka dots since the hem of his pants were dancing around just above his ankles; it was like he grew on some days and shrank on others), he was having a good hair day (his hair wasn't a furious curly nest of newly dyed red was the correct description but he digresses), his robe wasn't slipping off so he could pretend for a while he wasn't as scrawny as he seemed (it was because of his sweater), and any combination of those things would make a day for Donghyuck a good day.

But it was, somehow, simply not a good day for Donghyuck. He had a death grip on his bottle of bellbore syrup while he struggled to count the numbers of stirs he was on. _20, 21, 22-_ he counted for him, watching tentatively as he thought of the reasons why he could be impatiently tapping his foot like he needed to pee, and why he could be tensing his jaw like he was grinding down on a dog bone, and why he had his brows furrowed with canyons of folds between. Minhyung could feel the table trembling in the slightest when he tightened his hold on the glass, so strong it could’ve shattered. He didn't fail to notice his frustrated whining that made him chuckle and say, “26. You've done 26, you doof.”

Donghyuck stopped stirring, breath shuddering while his knuckles turn white against his bottle, “Shut up.”

Minhyung decided to tease, “What, no thanks at all? Is that what your best friend of 10 years gets for-“

“Stop. Talking. My head hurts so fucking bad just shut up!” Donghyuck hissed, and it’s sharper than the professor’s daggers at the back of their heads.

Though he prided himself in his thorough eyes, Minhyung could see now that he’d missed the sweat lining Donghyuck’s forehead, that he’d missed the way he was squeezing his eyes shut, missed the way his face was absent of its usual honey hue, not just his knuckles, missed the way his whole body was in fact shaking, not just his hand, and his heart is sinking with lead weights of guilt and concern.

_You need to go to the hospital wing?_ He scribbled scratchily before tapping Donghyuck on the shoulder, who turned around with a glare, spatula still held at a choke, and softened when he saw the note.

_No, I'll be fine. Maybe after potions come with me? I don’t wanna piss the prof off more._ Donghyuck wrote with a shaky hand, forcing a smile that said “ _Just listen_ ” when Minhyung moved to insist.

He hated when he used that smile, because he could never say no (he’d been using it more often those days when he snuck out of the dorms in the dead of night just to go to the Gryffindor’s and coax him into sneaking out again to the lake. The night before they'd spent their hours of twilight leaning against each other by the water and telling silly jokes and making fun of teachers. Maybe that was when he got sick?). So instead, he moved his hand from the quill to Donghyuck’s nape, squeezing gently while he felt it tense and shiver. It was burning with sweat and his hand was so icy Donghyuck couldn't help but sigh and close his eyes at the little bit of relief.

“ ‘s this feel good? You're scorching,” He whispered, still gently kneading at the base of his neck. Donghyuck only hums, blazing fingers moving from the bottle to keep his hand there, flames licking where they touched and his breath hitches, and then he's breathing again but heavier and shakier (something told him it was more than Donghyuck’s body temperature that set his skin on fire, but he hid it away; he'd think about it later because right now was about Hyuck being sick).

Or maybe not, because apparently he was trying to cover up a queen-sized mattress with a single-sized fitted sheet, and lights kept flashing in his head urging him to _think about it now!! This is huge dude we don't know if we're looking at a sign spray painted with a dick or a rainbow but we're pretty sure it just flashed with “you might be gay for Donghyuck”??? **Oh my god**???_ And Minhyung thought, but he thought instead that there couldn't possibly be a worse time than now because, well, he was still massaging Donghyuck’s neck since he had no valid reason to stop known to the Slytherin and he was still deathly pale, cold sweat running down his forehead, not to mention his frail fingers were still telling his hand to stay there and Minhyung should've been too worried about him to care about his ~~feelings~~ (??? He'd have to think about it). Yet here he was, with mini Minhyung saying _shit_ increasingly louder by the second in his brain until he's no longer capable of focusing on Donghyuck’s lips regaining their color and he has to find something to say, do, _anything_.

“Hey, isn't that your cat?” (He silently prays to God and thanks him for everything he's done for him in his life.)

“He has a name and you know it, Minhyung,” Donghyuck slapped his hand, eyes flitting open, “Smokes wouldn't be here anyway.”

“Really? It's got its yellow eyes,” Minhyung questioned and stopped his massaging, instinctively reaching for his wand while eyeing the black cat. (He's grateful for the distraction from the way he sees his hand trembling just a little before solidifying around the cherrywood.)

“He, Smokes is a he,” Donghyuck frowned at his hand that held his dragon heartstring, and adds, “and he's not dangerous. Now put your wand down and keep doing what you were. ”

“You know it's a reflexive thing, Hyuck,” Minhyung sighed, eyes reluctantly leaving the feline. If it wasn't supposed to be here it'd be gone soon anyway, “and no, you're comfortable enough to talk again.” _No, because I’m pretty sure I just had some gay awakening and I'm struggling to stuff it aside when I'm touching you._

“Boys,” Ms. Im warned from the front of the room, and Donghyuck rolled his eyes. He'd gone back to tapping his foot and barely 10 seconds later, he started up his antics.

“Minhyungie~ please? Come on, your best friend is deathly ill and your massage was helping!” Donghyuck said cutely, batting his eyelashes in the most shameless way, and he stops thinking and it's the scariest thing ever because it's been 15 minutes since this has happened and he's not been given the opportunity to process it and he’s never noticed how much he liked his warm brown eyes that shone different shades in different lights and were just _so warm you know?_ Like, as warm as a cup of hot chocolate in Hyuck's bed in the middle of a snowstorm and under his blankets that smelt like lavender and sandalwood. _But yeah. Right. He's still really pale and sweaty and hot. But hot as in a fever. Yeah, I should think about it later like I said I would._ Donghyuck was moving his hair from his forehead when he snapped out of it, “Hyungie? Did my flu pass on already?”

“No uh, fine. But you owe me a butterbeer,” he tried to play it off, quietly moving his hand back to the younger’s nape because it seemed that now he'd managed to compartmentalize his feelings just temporarily, enough to go back to fretting over the boy's health, “You know, you should've asked me for my scarf or something if you were cold.”

Donghyuck mumbles something in response while a smile played on his lips, leaning back into his hand, and Minhyung’s own curl upwards. Surprisingly, no explosions occur. Unless you count Minhyung’s head.

(Minhyung ended up in his bed at three a.m. with no Donghyuck coming over to get him for a trip to the forest because, obviously, he was sick and shouldn't have been out of bed. But he was up thinking now, really thinking, like he said he'd do earlier in the day and he's processing his queen-sized jumble of shit including weird captured moments like when he was stuck in the bathroom stall because he'd gotten into a game of hide and seek with Jeno and Jaemin (and Hyuck is pressed close to his chest, giggling in the most _precious_ way), or when he was studying in the library, tired out of his mind (and Hyuck is also there, head falling on his shoulder while he yawned in the _cutest_ way possible) and he was flushing and kicking his covers like an idiot.

Yeah. Fuck.)


End file.
